Caught in a time warp between the splendor of fall and the promise of Christmas, November passes.
The earth lies dormant beneath gray skies and barren trees. The smell of burning wood permeates the air. It is dreary, dismal and depressing. I like it.
Perhaps because I know that sunshine, blue skies and warm Gulf breezes await my return. Or perhaps because I know that when November presents itself in its dull grays and browns Thanksgiving is just around the corner.